Your Number One Fan
by Patriot-of-death
Summary: MY FIRST FIC. Izaya finds Mikado fascinating, and they both realize they have a common goal. Not best summary, sorry. WARNING: future sexual themes, foul language, violence, blood. Character death in first chapter. Future chapters lead to how it happened. MalexMale. Future Izaya x Namie confirmed, sorry if you're only into yaoi. Mainly malexmale though. Enjoy?


Author's note:

First fanfic I've ever written. Cut me some slack please. Sorry for any inconviences or possible typos. POSSIBLE SPOILERS, SEXUAL THEMES, FOUL LANGUAGE. I don't own Drrr, or any characters here. Varied malexmale pairings in future chapters. Uh, I really hope I satisfy Mikado fans. I'll try my best to take his role in the sequences preleading this chapter. Hope you enjoy?

Selfishness

The end drew closer. It scratched the rims of his heart like vultures clawing at a carcass. Life in his eyes soon would vanish, and with it his memories. His goals. His thoughts. His present, his past, his future. His reality. In these dawning last moments of his life he realized: his belief on the other side screamed at the hope of an afterlife. This felt untimely, he couldn't let his life slip away, not now. Not now. Not now. Not now. His eyes searched for help. His mind clung to his dying existence from his dear world, because he knew help would never come. Yet he clung there, just a few more seconds. Just one more second, he couldn't die yet, he needed to live one more, five more, he wanted to live, see, and observe more.

Thoughts blazed indeterminately; he wanted this to be over but he wanted to live and tale the tale. He stared at the raging beast now, death itself hoovering until he coudln't finish his own farewell thoughts. Finally his mind ceased to worry a second longer. He was not allowed to pay his farewell, he deserved all the pain down to his last fiber of human feeling. And just like that, he was gone. He died somewhat desperate, unfulfilled, and still waiting for help. Instant death, and from then on no one around would ever know how the dying atheist spent his last second of life. Because not even he himself, was allowed to live that second longer. It would be the mystery haunting everyone who came in contact with him, as well as the joy of many. Although this fact would never be known to his dead conscious, the tragedy of what used to be a living Izaya Orihara forever would live in their hearts.

No one but one showed to his funeral, not even his family. The death filed under accidental, and yet the youngster scowled at the reality of murder. He would have saved him had he cared more, inside he felt guilty for not doing so. He cared enough to save his own life, at least. This way he was going to prolong the memory of his informant, prolong his existence as the better half of his whole remainder. The studio in Shinjuku closed and leased to another person; a stranger. Now, here was the leader of the Dollars, staring at the tomb stone in his funeral, feeling his brows growing sore from scowling. A layer of glistening water blurred his vision the more his mind brought him back weeks ago when everything felt so exciting and new. He felt his own sobbing choke him, he could hardly breath standing here; aching. When he was able to smile and log on happily into his site, make runs to Shinjuku without his friends knowing...And meet with him.

Logging in the chat he was invited to years ago, the place where they first met. Kanra. He couldn't do that now, could he? He'd never be able to log on and talk to Setton, not without having her mention "the informant's death." Kanra had permanantly logged off. The keys felt empty as he half-heartedly tried to keep his site running. He felt emptier than the keys during the moments he stared at Izaya's username and realize it would forever stay offline. Forever black and white in his contacts list, serving no bloody purpose.

"I'm not like them, I wont go off and kill the one who took you away from me," he whispered while slowly kneeling down. His small digits grazed the fresh green flora decorating his grave. Tears pooled into circles on the orchids. He could swear to see his reflection in them as they fell.

"This will be normal someday, right? Living without you. It's what you always told me, people get used to things. That's why life is so boring. You were the change people needed, you were right; always were, and what would they have done witout you, what will they do now? I'm so confused."

Live happily, perhaps. Everyone hated the informant. Mikado stood once again. The stone had been well built. It glistened more lively than his own tears, carved golden letters into Obsidian. Even the naturally polished rock sported more happiness than Mikado's dull reflection. Izaya left a fortune of money, but no will. The money was basically there waiting to be used. His treasure and dirty information sold money fell to his blood, and at least the Orihara family agreed to lend it in this service. His mouth rolled uncontrollably as if the man himself stood in front of him. He'd scold him, this was his only chance to do so.

"I should have cared more, but I'd be lying next to you. I didn't want to die, Izaya-san, I didn't want to die for your sake. And you should have cared less for that matter; you shouldn't have depended on me, Izaya-san; I heard those rumors, y'know. I'll always be your leader, I'll be on top of my lazy ambition. Our life was supposed to be cheesy and dynamic, not ...this," his expression neared madness, the once innocent boy flushing at a girl he liked became marred with anger for the man he learned to love, "I guess if it wasn't for you, I'd never fear death more than I do now." Tears complimented his madness, but they fell in another color; angered tears. "Why don't you stop and come back to me already...Izaya-san...Why did you have to die? Come back. There's so much to do, life was so much fun..."

He couldn't stop yelling at his grave after that. Didn't matter. It was a school day, no one would hear him. He screamed, he raged, he demanded him to come back. Until his throat became sore did he realize that death was absolute and final. Izaya's final lesson was to face his only fear, and in doing so he carved a new fear in his leader. In a way that was the great thing about the informant, he didn't need to be alive to impact those who ever spoke to him. Mikado cursed his luck, Izaya's filthy luck, and turned away after he had finished letting out what he'd been bottling up. ".._.Good-bye, Izaya-san_."


End file.
